Molly Ringwald and Her Cast Iron Skillet
by Sally Tomato
Summary: Claire is thrilled to be spending her birthday with her boyfriend Quil during a midterm break from college. Unforturnately things don't always go as planned, especially when your boyfriend is a werewolf. Written for "the Rain Scene" Challenge by TeamSOB.


Pen Name: TexasWild

Title: Molly Ringwald and Her Cast Iron Skillet

Main Characters: Quil and Claire

Cannon

**"The Rain Scene" Challenge**

http://www(.)fanfiction(.)net/~teamsob

Disclaimer: I couldn't afford a $1.00 breakfast taco this morning; I think it's pretty safe to assume I don't own anything in the Twilight series.

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**A/N: **Thank you so much the amazing and brilliant knockout known as liljenrocks who polished this up for me. She truly lives up to the name.

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**Molly Ringwald and Her Cast Iron Skillet**

_Three hours and 30 minutes ago, I was excited._

"Sis, calm down, it's your birthday. You can keep the boy waiting if you need to," my sister, Charlene, rolled her eyes as she watched me tear apart my closet from the doorway of our shared bathroom.

"No, I can't. Quil said we had to be there by nine o'clock." Quil, knowing my tendency to be fashionably late, stressed we had to be out of the house by 8:30 p.m., and it was already 8:15. So here I was running around in my robe, looking for something decent to wear and thanking God I had the foresight to do my makeup and primping earlier in the afternoon.

Quil had insisted on keeping all plans for my birthday a secret. He knew I loved the mystery and he'd been talking nonstop about how much he hoped I'd like what he had planned. Of course, I would. He could take me dumpster diving and I'd have fun so long as I was with him.

Of course, that didn't stop the butterflies from swirling around in my stomach since I woke up at half past three this afternoon. Finals had been tough, and as a college student with the whole week off, I was making it my obligation to sleep in. Unfortunately, as a college student coming off of finals with a long distance boyfriend, I hadn't sexed it up in a while, and I was seriously out of practice when it came to looking hot for said boyfriend.

"Claire, take a deep breath and relax," Charley said taking a deep breath as an example. I hated when she acted like this, like being a whole year-and-four months older meant she was more mature than me. I glared in return before finally giving in and doing as she said. "Now, what's the problem?"

"I don't know what to wear," I whined pitifully as I crossed my arms across my chest.

"What do you think big sisters are for? Let's see what we've got to work with," she strode into my room and started sorting through the piles of clothes I had just thrown on the bed. Within two minutes she had separated everything into two piles and was staring at two different ensembles. "Alright which do you like? I think this is the one" she asked pointing at a little black dress with crisscross straps that tied around the back and a matching cardigan. Instantly, all the negative feelings I had for her fled from my body.

"Perfect! I love you, Charley!" I threw my arms around her before grabbing the outfit and running into the bathroom to change.

_Three hours and 15 minutes ago, I was ready to go._

I threw on some silver hoop earrings just as the clock on my nightstand counted down the final seconds till 8:30 and ran down the stairs barefoot.

"Charley!" I yelled up the stairs while looking under the couch. "What did you do with those strappy heels with the little bows on them?"

"The Steve Madden ones or the retro ones we found in Mom's closet?" she yelled back.

"The Maddens! God, sisters are frustrating. Quil is going to be here any minute," I whispered the last few comments to myself.

"You should wear the one's we found in Mom's closet!"

"Whatever! I'm gonna be late, where are they?!" I'm gonna kill her, I swear.

"In the pantry!" Seriously, would it have killed her to come down here and help me find them?

"Why are they in—you know what never mind, doesn't matter," I mumbled to myself making my way into the kitchen. Sure enough not only were the vintage Guess heels we'd been yelling about in the walk-in pantry but three other pairs of shoes as well. Charlene is so weird sometimes.

I buckled the impossibly small clasp by alternatingly propping each foot on the lower shelving. Mission: Complete.

Ready to go and it was only 8:34 according to the microwave clock, pretty good in my book. I was just glad Quil wasn't ten minutes early like usual. I smoothed out my dress while looking into the hallway mirror for one final glance over. Giving a satisfied sigh, I turned and grabbed my clutch before settling into a chair near the front door. I looked fucking sexy and I couldn't wait to see Quil's reaction.

_Two hours and 30 minutes ago, I was worried._

Quil is never late anywhere. Ever. If he said he was going to be somewhere, he was never more than five minutes behind schedule. It's just how the guy operates. I've known that since I was five and the only kid never late for kindergarten. It drove him crazy when I hit my teens and was at least twenty minutes late anywhere I went thanks to Charley introducing me to make-up.

So where was he? The worst case scenarios were running through my head. Not much could keep a time conscious, sexually deprived shape-shifter from his finally-back-in-town-imprint. Well, not much past a vampire. I mean that's all I could really assume. What else would make him 45 minutes late other than running into a vampire's scent during patrol or worse, an actual cold one? I've heard the legends since I was thirteen and discovered my best friend could turn into a wolf. Vampires are the only thing that could hurt my wolf and it scared the hell out of me. Charley was usually the one to calm me down, not that she knows what she's _actually_ calming me down about, but she'd left to go to some party a while ago.

I was so deep in my thoughts it took a couple of rings before I noticed my cell was going off. The caller ID revealed it was Embry.

"Hello?" I asked a little more frantically than I meant to.

"Quil says he's sorry but he can't make it. Something came up with Jake and he really needs some guy time," Embry said before I heard growling and the line went dead.

"What the hell?" I asked into the speaker and nearly crushed the little red phone button to clear the call from my phone.

_Two hours and 5 minutes ago, I was upset._

Over the next two hours, I moved from outraged, then livid, and now I was just quietly smoldering as I paced in the dark, and my heels made a dramatic clang with each step. I was picturing all the different ways I could murder Quil Ateara. Maybe I'd put a few Alka-Seltzer tablets in his food and give him a nice big glass of water so I could watch him fizzle to death. Then again the bastard would probably just heal. Maybe simple is the way to go. I could just set him on fire or something. Yeah! I could douse him in gasoline, light a match, and watch him burn as I sing 'Ring of Fire.'

Who the hell stands a girl up on her birthday? Quil Ateara does apparently. How cliché can you get? It sounds like the set up to one of those lame 1980's Molly Ringwald movies. I am not Molly Ringwald material as Quil very well knows. Molly Ringwald sulks and throws angsty fits until the guy comes around. I seethe and throw cast iron skillets until the guy begs for mercy.

I actually took the time to paint my fingernails and toenails his favorite shade of red and the stupid wolf stood me up to spend "guy time" with Embry and Jake. Just thinking about it made me want to suffocate him with cotton candy and cut off his airways with duct tape. My only problem is how I would hide that massive body of his. I can't just stuff it in the closet, he's entirely too huge for that. I could chop him up and take him to the dump with the rest of the garbage but I've watched enough TV to know someone's bound to spot a finger or something, dammit. I heard somewhere that pigs are used for disposal purposes of this kind; unfortunately there are no pig farms anywhere near La Push.

I freaking waxed my legs for the douche bag and he couldn't even bother to call himself! No, he has his buddy do the dirty work. His picture is going on my dart board and his manly parts are going right over the damn bull's eye. God knows he won't need them for a while. That's right folks; he won't be getting any for a long time…a very long time.

I threw myself across the living room couch because the thought that I don't even have anyone to vent to drained me. My parents went to Port Angeles for some business trip, Charley was at that party, and Quil was still MIA. The coward was probably hiding. He'd never made me this angry. We had had a couple of blow-ups when we first started dating and I kept on getting frustrated with the boundaries he put on the physical aspect of our relationship, but he'd never actually done something so blatantly deserving of me losing my temper. It felt so wrong that I didn't even know what to do with myself. Usually, if someone pissed me off, I hunted them down and let them have it, but I had no idea where he was right now. He was most likely running around the woods in wolf form still having his "guy time." My violent fantasies were all I had, so I imagined shoving Quil into the blades of an industrial fan but then decided the clean up would be too much work.

As if the weather gods had heard my wrath, the overcast skies had forsaken their earlier gray and were completely black. I loved a good thunderstorm and it looked like the makings of something torrential out there, which seemed to match my wrath perfectly. The light drizzle turned into buckets against the window so that I could barely see outside. I hoped it hailed tonight, like baseball sized hail, because I was pretty sure Quil was still out there and the urge to bake him some almond cookies laced with cyanide hadn't subsided. At the very least he'd get a stomach ache, I doubted it would kill him though.

The first bolt of lightening illuminated the entire living room followed by a loud ominous clap of thunder that echoed my anger. The explosive lullaby of the storm sung me to sleep with its sympathetic cries of indignation on my behalf. My last thoughts before drifting off were, 'I've lost it if I'm taking solace in the weather. Quil has driven me to insanity. Lovely.'

A loud rapping noise woke me from my uncomfortable position on the couch. I stretched my muscles taking inventory of the kinks and cramps I had created from the contorted pose I had allowed myself to fall asleep in. I popped my shoulder gleefully getting rid of the tightness that had developed over the last however many hours. I was able to pull myself into a sitting position before I heard the rat-tat-tat against the window again. I probably should have been scared or at least ran for my bat from my high school softball days but the hulking silhouette made me want to pull out my bat for reasons completely different than protection. I couldn't remember if I had dreamed or not but my rage had kept me company even in my sleep. There was nothing peaceful about my slumber and I had that mass of muscle out there to thank for it.

I pulled the clip from my hair and threw it at the window. Most of the tension from my headache disappeared as my hair fell down my back and I sighed in relief before remembering why I was sleeping with a clip in my hair to begin with. It was still raining and the only part of him I could really see clearly was his hands pressed against the window. I would serve him the shards of glass as seasoning on his steak if he leaned too hard and broke it.

"Claire, I'm so sorry! Please let me explain," he pleaded through the window.

"Oh, don't worry. I heard enough from Embry, I know how important 'guy time' is," I replied in a sarcastically sweet tone.

"I'm sorry," he croaked, "Embry was pissed and took it out on that phone call. Let me in so I can explain."

"I hope an icicle falls and stabs you in the head," I scowled in response and crossed my arms even though he probably couldn't see me. Maybe it was juvenile but I didn't like the possibility that his wolfy vision was allowing him to see me, while he was mostly invisible to me. So I moved into the hallway where I was covered by a dividing wall but still had a view of the window.

"I know you're in the hall, Claire. Please just open the door," he said in his let's-be-grown-ups-about-this voice which only served to piss me off further.

"Fat chance, Wolfman!" I patronized.

"I'll just stay out here throwing rocks at your window all night," he warned.

"Have fun," I huffed before the most brilliant bolt of lightening filled the sky and I was witness to the most beautiful creation known to man. The greatest artists in the world couldn't even begin to imagine the complete and utter breathtaking splendor that was Quil Ateara. He wore his usual cut offs and nothing else. His powerful body was drenched from head to toe as if he'd just cannonball dived into a pool. The not-quite-shaggy hair I adored running my fingers through laid flat for once as it drained rain down his face which only served to enhance his strong jaw. The water running down his well-defined chest reflected the electric blue flash provided by the lightening as the raindrops worked their way around his muscles systematically like an irrigated stream. The man put the covers of Harlequin Romance novels to shame.

That just wasn't fair! How the hell was I supposed to stay angry with him when he looked so…fuckable? Shit! _No, hold on to the rage. He stood you up. You want to impale him with a forklift._

_Dammit resolve! Don't falter now._

"You have sixty seconds to tell me why I shouldn't put my pointy heel through your throat," I threatened through gritted teeth, flinging the front door open. He gave me a bewildered look as if he couldn't believe I had actually opened the door. He continued to gape at me before I growled and started to close the door.

"Wait!" his hand stopped my attempt to shut the door effortlessly. He shook his head and cleared his throat, "I didn't expect you—never mind. Can I come in?"

"No," I answered in a clipped tone. "Just say what you came to say."

"I'm so sorry, Claire," he said giving me those damn knee-weakening, puppy dog eyes.

"So you said. You're wasting your minute," I answered with a lot less malice than I had intended but still managed to tap the invisible watch on my wrist while tapping my foot.

"Do you remember me telling you that Jake's daughter, Rosie, phased a few weeks ago?" he asked. "Well," he continued seeing my continue-or-die face, "she imprinted this morning. One thing led to another and let's just say, Jake was pissed when he found them in a not-so-innocent position. He nearly tore the guy in half before Rosie stepped in and protected him. Embry and I had to run all the way to Winnipeg because Nessie was convinced either Rosie was going to kill Jake, or Jake was going to kill Rosie's imprint and the rest of the Cullen family is in Europe right now," he finally finished taking a deep breath and bringing my attention to his chiseled chest again. Dammit all to hell, it was difficult being angry with a shirtless beefcake who looked like your forgiveness could solve world hunger.

"And you couldn't have called _because_?" I prodded stubbornly hanging on to my last shred of ire.

"It was crazy today, Claire. I forgot my phone and Embry was pissed he had to leave his girlfriend this morning and she called all day, which wore his battery down and that's why he was so short with you on the phone," he rushed out all in one breath. "His phone actually died while he was talking to you."

He held my patent death glare beseechingly for a couple more beats before I dropped my head in defeat and childishly pouted, "I'm still mad at you."

"I know, Baby," he soothed tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "I know."

"Come in," I sighed tugging him toward the closest bathroom. "Dry off in here and I'll bring you some clothes." I stomped up the stairs to my room where I grabbed a pair of sweats I'd stolen from his place a few years back when it was still a novel idea to walk around in my boyfriend's clothes.

I heard the water start running downstairs and figured he was going to take a quick shower. My bed looked so tempting, it was calling to me. Even though I'd just woken up I was exhausted, being angry with Quil did that to me. Listening to its siren call, I launched myself across the bed figuring he'd be a few minutes anyways. I laid there restlessly for a couple of minutes feeling like I'd just been Jedi mind-fucked.

On the one hand, Quil _did _have a good reason. On the other hand, it was my birthday. My twenty-first birthday and I'd spent it waiting on his ass to show up. He could have sent one of the other guys to help Jake…but then he wouldn't be my Quil, the guy who was always there when you needed him. Like I said, it was complete brain-fuckery. I was way too tired to be angry anymore, but that didn't mean I was over it. I just didn't want an elephant to take a dump on his head anymore.

The water cut off and I rolled to the end of my bed where I took off my heels. Grabbing his sweats I headed back downstairs. I had no intention of sneaking a peek at his Herculean form when I delivered his pants but my eyes were drawn to him like magnets when I went to shut the door and saw a movement in one of the mirrors. The body towel looked scandalously tiny riding low on his hips and showing off one of his muscular thighs as steam drifted from the shower. In the two seconds it took to close the door, he turned as if he knew seeing his muscled back was my weakness, the kryptonite to my Superman grudge-holding abilities. There was something so damn scrumptious in the way his prominent, broad shoulder blades slowly disappeared into the arch of his back and defined dorsa muscles. The way it all came together, to form a perfect masculine triangle, left my mouth watering. Just as the door shut, he untied the towel and the last thing I saw was the peak of his fabulous ass.

I walked into the kitchen a little short of breath and overheated. No matter what mood I'm in, Quil can always get me hot and bothered. It usually annoys me when I'm angry but I was past that point. I needed something to keep me from jumping him the minute he walked into the kitchen so I grabbed the coffee from the pantry and made a pot. Waiting for the coffee to finish and Quil to emerge from the bathroom, I hopped up on the counter. After I grabbed the two cups, I decided I was too lazy to jump down and sat there swinging my legs and listening to the coffee drip. Everything from my shoulders up rested on the cool mahogany cabinets as my side was warmed by the steam coming off the coffee pot. The comforting balance of temperatures had me resting my eyes and I was caught off guard by Quil's voice.

"I'm sorry I ruined your birthday Claire. You look so damn gorgeous and I totally screwed tonight up," he sounded like someone had put his puppy in the blender and was holding their finger over the mix button. My eyes slid open and looked at the microwave. It was 2:45 a.m. I'd been alive exactly twenty-one years and twenty-four hours. It felt significant. More importantly, it made me want to rise above puppy blending.

"I'll forgive you on one condition," I offered holding back a smirk.

"Anything," he promised, wrapping his arms around my waist and burying his face in my hair. He might not look like it, but that sinewy body of his was made for cuddling. He was my snuggle monster and his hugs were like a heated blanket on a snow day. Warm and protective and just what you need. It stole any remaining tension from my body and I couldn't help but let myself sag into him.

"I want those sweat pants back," I whispered huskily into his ear, grabbing the elastic band and gently letting the fingers tucked in his pants brush against the sensitive skin of his pelvis as the coffee machine timer went off.

"Well, if you insist," he joked, groaning slightly as his lips finally found mine.

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